Resolve

How apropos! It's the first day of 2008. (!) Id A, so clever. And as a warning, this post is more for me than it is for you. Also, it is not funny. Or, not trying to be funny.

Anyway, I really didn't do anything tonight except hang out with Brother A and his friend Foarg. But like, not even for that long. I find New Year's Eve to be anticlimactic. Agreed?

As I said to someone earlier, it's been a whirlwind few days. Good and bad. I've had my vacation fun and vacation's not even over.

Sunday, was sad though. It was the first time I had been to a memorial service and funeral of someone who had such a huge impact on my life and someone who really mattered to me. On this blog/journal, I have previously referred to him as The Coot, affectionately. He looked like one, he talked like one, he was old. The stars aligned. He was the founder of the art school I've mentioned before. The stars aligned. Even though, I found out he died on the 27th, it hadn't really sunk in until yesterday.

It wasn't a traditional wake. If we wanted to say something about him, then we should stand up and talk. I didn't because its just something I don't do. His son and wife (they got married) (also, um, if you can't keep up: ARCHIVE!) said really touching sentimental things, admittedly, my eyes welled up. There was a book being passed around, and if we wanted to write something we could. This I could do.

Just to clarify, the service was held at his Gatsby-like house, filled; like there was less than standing room. So the book reaches me and at the same time, Thought Thief stands up, on the other side of the room. As soon as I started writing, she started speaking. The stars aligned. She stole my damn thoughts, only she expressed them better and more honestly than anything I could ever say or do or write. I finish writing before she finishes talking. I pass the book to the next person.

I start balling. I bury my head in my lap. Jasmine (pseudonym) put her hand on my shoulder. It was the first time in a long time I had cried. I tried to keep it quiet out of respect. Every emotion flowed through me at that moment, and I couldn't fucking stop them. I realized that without this man, I would literally have nothing. I'll keep the reasons why to myself.

I've been to funerals before, even to people closely related to me. This one, put everything into perspective; it really made me think about how lucky and fortunate I really am. It's not like I feel a part of me is missing, or some new age-y thing like that, its that I feel like everything has a greater importance. It's weird to see people you have fun and laugh with be sad and crying, but I feel like it was necessary. Inspired by The Coot, I want to be strong.

Just P.S.: I wanted to write something real and honest, not clouded by my own douchebaggery and asshole-itude. I promise that this will probably be one of the few posts where those two things are missing.